


a study of grief

by ZinniaRae



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Not Happy, POV Second Person, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 19:07:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9840005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZinniaRae/pseuds/ZinniaRae
Summary: Because he is gone.And without him you are lost.





	

He’s gone.

You stand in the bathroom and stare at yourself in the mirror, blink at the person staring back at you. You scream, the sound echoing off the porcelain and it almost hurts your ears too much. You pace, making small circles as the cold tile chills your feet. It should make you feel something but without him, you feel nothing.

He’s gone.

After you scream until your throat is raw and your jaw aches and you’re sure you’ve deafened yourself for the rest of the night, you’re sick. Your stomach aches and you feel like you’re going to vomit -- even though you haven’t eaten anything in two days. They keep trying to make you but you  _ can’t _ . Why can’t they understand that? 

Maybe it’s pathetic that food reminds you so much of him. Everybody on the freaking planet eats but your cabinets are stocked with his favorite snacks. Those protein bars that are supposed to taste like cookie dough but taste like chalk instead, the chicken flavored ramen, bags of chips with ridiculous flavors like ‘ketchup’ and ‘cheeseburger’. They tasted the same, even though he swore there was a difference. There’s still takeout in the fridge from the last time you had dinner together.

You’re on your knees, clutching the toilet as stomach acid burns your throat, as you heave and gag and you  _ feel _ this. You feel the pain, but you also feel numb to it. Like it hurts, but it could be worse. 

Could it be worse?

You wipe your mouth off with cold water, leave the bathroom and stumble into your bedroom.  _ Your _ bedroom. It was the bedroom you shared with him, called it ‘ours’ but with him gone there is only you. There is no we, no us. You are alone.

Because he is gone.

You crawl into bed, not bothering to change out of the clothes you’ve been wearing for the past two days. Your head aches from your screams, from the lack of sleep. Your eyes burn, sting, beg you to close them and find peace.

You can’t.

You tried to sleep the first night, tried to curl up in your warm bed and you  _ couldn’t _ because it was empty without him. Without his warmth, without his snores. They irritated you at first but they became the comfortable soundtrack to your night, a reminder that he was next to you. When he was next to you, everything was okay.

The second night you tried to sleep on the couch. It almost worked.

Then you remembered all the times you cuddled up and watched a movie or watched him play video games or were just  _ together _ . You’ll never be  _ together _ again.

Because he’s gone.

You crawl into bed, tucking in your body on your side and grabbing for his pillow. Your arms wrap around it and you bury your face in it. It smells like his shampoo, like the scent of his aftershave and there was that  _ spark _ . That little spark that was so distinctively him. 

You want to sleep because if you sleep, you’ll be able to see him. You’ll see that flash of yellow, that orange hair. Maybe you’ll hear him say your name one last time, the way there was always a laugh in his voice, like just saying your name was an inside joke that only he was in on.

He was joy.  
He was light.

Everything is dark.

You close your eyes, squeeze his pillow to your chest and try to sleep. You count backwards, you try to clear your mind and focus on nothingness. You see his face. 

You didn’t get to say goodbye.

You roll over, look at the other wall and nothing comes. Your eyes still burn, your head still aches but you still don’t sleep. 

You don’t know what to do. Should you get up? Should you stare blankly at the TV, let it flicker in front of you while you drift off to your imagination? Should you let your eyes burn and sting and maybe eventually you’ll collapse from exhaustion? Should you run down to the all-night convenience store and grab a bottle of sleeping pills, force yourself into a chemically induced state of unconsciousness where everything is okay? 

You’re not sure you trust yourself with a bottle of pills.

So you shift in bed, pull his pillow tighter to your chest and squeeze your eyes shut again. You pray to a god you’re not sure you believe in because why would god take away the best thing in your world? Why would he snuff out a light that was so young, so _good_ , one that had barely gotten started? But you pray for sleep, you pray for just an hour -- maybe two. Just enough to escape the pain for a little bit.

Because he is gone.  
And without him you are lost. 

**Author's Note:**

> Should I apologize for this? Probably.


End file.
